Distracting the Moonlight
by Terra Anatase
Summary: That night would play out clearly in his mind and raise his temperature several degrees. Lying beside her bed, staring in disbelief as the moonlight illuminated the room.


**Distracting the Moonlight**

_I do not own Honey and Clover._

* * *

Design was never supposed to be a physically exerting job. Sure there were long nights, even long weeks.

Tonight was no different. His cup of coffee was half full and cold now. The caffeine was no longer keeping him attentive, it was just another addiction.

The cigarettes were meant to ease the stress every 45 minutes or so. He never chain smoked quite as often until he fell back into this particular position. Or job. Position made it sound like he disliked his impediment at the workplace, which was far from the truth.

Physically exerting, and oh so very distracting.

Maybe if he moved everything to a different room he might be able to control his heart rate a little. Then his eyes could focus better, so he could work harder.

He could make a separate pot of coffee and just shout questions from another room. So that he could be the man she needed right now. He was going to be everything she needed.

Mayama rolled up his sleeves to let the air cool his skin. It was beginning to become uncomfortably warm inside again. Shifted to his side, his eyes followed thin legs up to the silk skirt, the light shirt that hung on the edge of her frail shoulders, her milky smooth neck.

He was starting to question his control over his feelings. It seems that the past year had done nothing but build up his desire. Now his control over that was fading fast.

That night would play out clearly in his mind and raise his temperature several degrees. Lying beside her bed, staring in disbelief as the moonlight illuminated the room. How could he be feeling these emotions and desires so strongly?

It made it hard to breathe, and it made it impossible to sleep. It wouldn't be so difficult if he didn't have to fight all these feelings.

It was these things in succession that sent him careening towards the front door, cigarette in hand, cold air greeting his taut and strained body.

"Mayama," a soft voice crossed his clouded mind.

"I'll just be outside a minute."

* * *

The air seemed a little too cold tonight. Mayama glanced around the corner and realized he had left the door cracked. 'She must have fallen asleep at her desk again,' he assumed.

Gently, he shut the door and turned around only to find that he had woke her. Silently he berated himself and quickly walked over to the coffee to pour two cups. "I'm sorry I left that open."

"Oh, I fell asleep again. Sometimes I think I get more sleep on my desk than my own bed," she mused softly. Mayama turned away from her. Immediately, images of her body laying next to his own in the moonlight flooded his mind.

'_Control._'

"You should be asleep there right now, but I know you never listen to me. Here, have some coffee." He handed the plain white cup to her. Small lithe fingers brushed against his hand, and electricity somehow flew up his arm to his heart.

He stared blankly at her and remembered to breathe. She glanced up from the steaming cup she held with two hands, "Thank you." Without much thought he brought a hand up to her shoulder and then to her cheek. She was freezing.

Mayama turned to grab a blanket only to be spun back around by a gentle tug. As he faced her, he brought one hand up and stopped. Everything inside of him wanted to hold her close to him. That need to feel her body against him was winning.

And for the first time since that night long ago, she didn't look at him like he was a burden. As she stared up at his dark eyes, piercing through her façade, she began to understand how powerful this threat to her charade truly was.

All of his pent up passion for her was conveyed through small gestures such as this. It was stopping time for too long as these long moments would pass between them. She would be happy alone and distant if he would just stop frightening her with these indecisive moments. It changed her mind, briefly, but far too often for her liking.

"Mayama-kun, I…" as she spoke her lips moved perfectly in slow motion.

'_Control._'

With a quick pull of her arm, he swept the other around her waist and held her close to him. Not at all surprised, she glanced down at his arm wrapped around her back, and back up to his eyes.

He let her captive arm slide down as he slowly removed his glasses and placed them on the desk. He could smell the black coffee rise from her soft lips as well as that honey scent always on her skin. Leaning in just past her, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and whispered, "Rika…"

Strong warm arms held her tight as already injured legs weakened under the pressure of her body. This was a moment to intense and indefinitely long for her to fight it. Warm sensations trailed from her ear down her neck to that soft place above her collar bone.

A strong scent radiating from underneath his shirt reminded her of the night they shared together. Her bed smelled of that scent for weeks, and often she would awaken in the middle of the night to it. Staring at the moonlight she would remember that face over her own, begging for her assurance that night.

Turning her head slightly, she closed her eyes. "Why must you always…" She breathed out slowly, "get inside my head."

The phone on her desk began to ring, as well as the one across the room. Both flashed the caller's name, the Interior Director of the company that recently hired them. Rika moved to pick up the phone, intentionally pushing Mayama to the side.

Wrapping up the conversation with several agreements, she sighed heavily and stared at the phone for a minute. A slight breeze blew over the back over her arms, and as she pulled the blanket over her shoulders she noticed the door was ajar.

"Oh god." She drew a hand to her mouth as she realized she had made a mistake.

"I shouldn't have said that."


End file.
